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Venice - Snook Alley - June 7th, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
85 °
FISHING: Excellent
JUNE 7, 2009
It’s been blowing and raining hard the past couple of days, but tarpon are absolutely EVERYWHERE! They’re just off the beaches of Casey Key, Venice, and Manasota Key, and they’re inside all of the creeks and rivers.
Fortunately, the forecast is for clearing skies and hardly any wind for the foreseeable future. Which means Bob Pascal and his ladyfriend Terry "should" have an enjoyable day on Tuesday. I certainly HOPE so, since he couldn’t break away from his world-famous St. Michael’s lodge in Maryland last month and generously gave the days to a mutual friend from Nokomis, Bob DeBoer.
Unfortunately, when Bob fished with me we were once again surrounded by fish with a bad case of "lockjaw."
One day later, Rande Yeager had four "grabs" with flies, but just didn’t get a solid hook-set on any. "Setting the hook on these tarpon is like setting the hook on the side of this Hewes Redfisher," I told him. "Slam the hook home with your line hand, then bang him boom-boom-boom with the rod."
His son, Brooks ("I tell everybody I named him after the finest third-baseman in the history of baseball," Rande says) made up for it the next morning, though—in spades!
We got onto the water at 6am, and in less than 15 minutes Brooks hooked a 50-pounder. Thirty minutes later he brought it to the boat and that tarpon absolutely went berserk when I reached down to lip it. Thrashing, churning and finally crashing away, it totally slimed me!
So, no Pentax Moment for posterity. Except in everybody’s mind.
Of course, things got incredibly exciting a little while later. Tarpon kept milling around everywhere. Rande and Brooks were sharing the trip with another of my regular clients, Mark Goodnight, of Charlotte NC. The anticipation level was off the charts.
Finally, Brooks grunted. "Got one," he said, and line peeled off the reel. One HUGE jump later a magnificent tarpon in the hundred-pound class was six feet out of the water and then off the line. Turns out Brooks had tightened the drag a tad too tight. BIIIIIIIING!!!
"Damn," he said, with a bit of a tremble in his voice. "I sure would have liked to keep him on just a little bit longer!" A beautiful fish, to be sure. Rande was so thrilled that Brooks got into those fish that he barely wet a line. Mark, on the other hand, was frustrated. So many fish, and no hookup.
Rande and Brooks could only spend a couple of hours that morning, and the rest of the day Mark was casting to fish that simply wouldn’t open their mouths. "I’m gonna take up GOLF," he wailed at one point. "And that boy hooked TWO!"
But, a couple of days later (when he was SUPPOSED to be back in Charlotte), he yelled from the dock where was sitting on his bucket of lures. Capt. John and I had decided to break our two-year (or was it THREE) streak of not fishing together. Our guide schedules are so conflicting that we never get a chance to share a boat ride.
This time, we each had Thursday morning open and decided we were going fishing. Sort of. We each had three "grabs" but hadn’t put any silver into the air when Mark recognized me and called out.
"Let’s go get Mark," I said. "He fishes with me a lot. Give him a bit of a freebie."
"Tell you what," John replied. "Drop me off and fish him for a while before you come to my house." I was having trolling motor issues (again—as usual) and John was going to zap an ohm meter on the various electrical items.
Poor Mark. Still dozens of fish with no hookups.
"I guess I’ve just got bad karma," he drawled.
Nope. It’s just tarpon time! Have I told you I hate fish?
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Ghost—who’s 12—and Heart—who turns two on Saturday think it’s bird season!
Kate says the weather up in Michigan has been absolutely horrible. "You wouldn’t be guiding with the weather this cold," she told me AGAIN today. "I can’t imagine any brown drakes coming off with the air temps in the 30s at night and barely 50 during the day."
BRRRRRRR!
Kate said that when the dogs came in after being in the 800-square-foot pen for a couple of hours, Ghost ran right over to her cozy little nest next to baseboard heater and curled up. "I think she figured Heart would try to claim it," Kate said, "and she wasn’t having ANY of that!"
Smart dog. Of course, she always has been. Which is why she’s a legend among grouse hunters in northern Michigan. Made her first retrieve at 21 weeks old and has absolutely beaten herself up damned near every hunting season since. God, I can’t imagine the pain of losing her.
And the puppy is still ALL puppy. "He’s been going NUTS over the mourning doves," Kate said. "Gets up on his hind legs and looks out the dining room windows when he sees them at the bird feeder. Dances around on his hind legs and whines."
Yep. He’s gonna be a good one. And I’m gonna try real hard to never look down on him in comparison to Ghost. Of course, I might not have to. The boy has a nose on him. I just have to keep him in the same county.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - May 24th, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
83 °
FISHING: Excellent
MAY 24, 2009 Tarpon season is in full swing here in southwest Florida. We’ve got migrating spawners in the 150-pound class cruising the beaches off Casey Key, Venice, Manasota Key, and Gasparilla Island. We’ve got “juvies” in the 20-to-80-pound class in the rivers. And, we’ve got very largePre-spawn snook patrolling the beaches. What a delight. Except for getting up before light. Sigh. That’s the one drawback to being a guide. Up between 3 and 4 in the morning, and then in bed about 7pm. Which is why Kate, Ghost and Heart are back in Michigan (more about them later). We’ve had some wind and rollers on the outside during the past week or so, which meant I stayed in the rivers. Where we were absolutely SURROUNDED by tarpon. I felt like George Armstrong Custer on his worst day. Tarpon, tarpon, tarpon everywhere! And I was extremely happy that Will Bouck, who lives near Grand Rapids, Michigan, boated his first tarpon ever on a black-and-purple streamer pattern. As you can see from his grin on the Featured Photo he was one very happy angler. One of the most important things Will learned during our two days together was that keeping the rod tip high on the backcast makes all the difference in the world. “Stab the sun with your rod tip,” Lefty Kreh told me many, many years ago. “Keep the tip way up in the air. Then stop the tip about six feet above the water on the forward stroke.” What I try to point out to my anglers who drive the rod tip too low with a sidearm sweeping motion is that you have to remember basic physics. (Which I regret not studying hard enough when I was in school!) You have to stop the rod tip high enough above the water surface in order to let the line travel through the air. Common sense dictates that if you drop the rod tip low to the water on your forward stroke you not only “open” the loop into a wide C-shape (destroying your line velocity), you also simply don’t give the fly line enough room to travel through. Bottom line: longer casts mean you reach fish who haven’t been spooked by the boat, the angler, the guide, or the rod swinging through the air! Which, in turn, leads to more hookups. I went through the very same evolutionary process when I started fishing salt water 14 years ago. I was a small-stream Michigan trout guy whose longest cast (with a 4-weight) was maybe 30 feet. Distance? You gotta be kidding me! But one month down here tossing lead-eye flies with an 8-weight showed me the flaws in my preparedness. Like most northern trout anglers I guide, it was a very real revelation. Now add a 12-weight rod to the equation! Anyway, Will worked and worked and worked and finally jumped (and landed) his tarpon! Gary Sibbald, from Ontario, had been down fishing with me the week before and landed a bunch of fish, including a very fat spotted sea trout. But the tarpon just wouldn’t co-operate for him, either with fly or spinning gear. Gene Kahn and Steve Nelson suffered similar frustrations—tarpon that had us absolutely surrounded and would NOT eat live crabs. Go figure! But, I keep threatening to have T-shirts printed up with a succinct phrase emblazoned across the front: “It’s Pronounced Guide Not God” Gotta get to the shop----OH, yeah! Kate’s doing great—looking for a hatch of very special flies out front of the house every afternoon. And Ghost, who turned 12 years old last week, is frisky and frolicking. She’s even bedeviling Heart, who’ll be two years old next month. They had a special event a few nights ago when a bear was lurking around the house. Kate said Ghost was roaring and Heart was walking the length of our 36-foot screened porch on his hind legs! Sure do miss them, but hey—it’s Tarpon Time! You do what you’ve gotta do. Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 28th, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED: 
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
MARCH 28, 2009 What a wacky week! Spanish mackerel have been elusive (to say the least). Ladyfish have been abundant (to say the least). Pompano and slot-sized trout have gratefully (to say the least) begun showing up! It basically revolves around the weather patterns, which have been unstable throughout the entire country this winter (to say the least). Just when we started to have water temps over 70 degrees, the nights got cold and the water temps plunged to the low 60s. Because of all THAT the Spanish vanished because the baitfish ran back out into the Gulf of Mexico. Heck, we STILL haven’t seen the first Little Tunny! King Mackerel allegedly are prowling around somewhere eight or nine miles offshore. Couldn’t prove it by me! We’ve been “Gamers,” though. Bill Rogers and JW (Bill) Riccardi took a drive out into the Gulf with me last Tuesday and we never saw a single mackerel. Ditto for Rande Yeager on Wednesday. Thursday I didn’t even BOTHER! I had 10-year-old (by two days!) Quinn Cunningham to get into fish (details to follow!). So Bill and JW are flailing away with their fly rods while scores of fishy images are flitting across the screen on my Garmin 172C. Will any of them EAT? Nay! We “walk around” the Gulf for a while, prospecting for those cobia that Bob Pascal hooked last Saturday, but NADA. You know what that stands for don’t you? “Not A Damned Anything!” We briefly considered poking around Shakett Creek for baby tarpon, but finally settled on Little Sarasota Bay. Where, after an agonizingly looooong period of inactivity, the fish decided to join in the fun. At least, WE thought it was fun. The Bill Boys boated fish after fish after fish—at long last. Now we’re gonna take that trip Up The Creek tomorrow morning to see what those 20-to-50-pound poons are all about! Wish us luck. The next morning found Rande and The Capt. Poking around the Gulf amid screens filled with fish that wouldn’t eat a fly to save my life. So, we pulled up stakes and headed northeast into the Intracoastal Waterway. Rande’s an experienced walleye guy from Minneapolis, and pokes around with a fly rod in the Rockies. So it was a real hoot when he landed his first-ever saltwater fish on a fly. When he landed a trout, that brought an even bigger smile. However, his third fish was a foot-long lizardfish. Which have a whole mouthful of sharp little teeth. “Want a picture of it,” I asked. Rande sorta took a half-step backwards. His eyes were fixed on all those teeth. Like a kid answering if he wanted a second helping of spinach and Brussel sprouts he shook his head and tremulously whispered “noooooooo.” I thought I was gonna bust a gut! I laughed so hard and long that my stomach hurt. The expression on his face, and the way he answered, was priceless. If ONLY I’d had a video camera rolling! Wait till I put him on a hundred-pound tarpon in May! I DEFINITELY will film THAT one. When Vern Cunningham called several weeks ago to book his trip, he told me he’d have 10-year-old Quinn and Uncle Don Kirsch with him. The plan was simple: A): Don’t let Quinn get seasick. B): Catch a BUNCH of fish. C): Catch them QUICKLY! Which, I am grateful to say, is exactly what happened. Since this was a spin-fishing trip, I outfitted the guys with the glass minnow jigs I tie, and rigged Quinn with a GULP! shrimp. And I’ll begotohell if on the very first cast when I was demonstrating to Quinn how to work the bait a ladyfish didn’t jump right on! “Here,” I said, handing him the rod. “Land this fish.” Which he did, amid much glee and Pentax Moments. It pretty much went on like that the rest of the day. “FISH ON!” was a frequently heard cry. Quinn had celebrated his 10th birthday two days prior. “If you wanna see 11, do everything I tell you,” I said. Quinn looked at Dad. Then at Uncle Don. Then at me. “That’s reassuring,” he quipped. But he listened well and caught a bunch of fish. Finally, just after Don boated a nice pompano, Quinn started lobbying for “home” and the motel swimming pool. “The pool will be there all day,” Vern said. “Let’s catch some more fish!” “Two more,” Quinn replied. “Each,” Vern countered. “Total,” Quinn said. When Vern landed an 18-inch trout we got the requisite photos, hauled in the sea anchor and headed to the ramp. “You know,” I said, “when school lets out in June those migrating tarpon that cover up the beaches out here really are a sight to behold.” Vern sorta wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. “Something to think about,” he said. So should you! Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 28th, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
MARCH 28, 2009 What a wacky week! Spanish mackerel have been elusive (to say the least). Ladyfish have been abundant (to say the least). Pompano and slot-sized trout have gratefully (to say the least) begun showing up! It basically revolves around the weather patterns, which have been unstable throughout the entire country this winter (to say the least). Just when we started to have water temps over 70 degrees, the nights got cold and the water temps plunged to the low 60s. Because of all THAT the Spanish vanished because the baitfish ran back out into the Gulf of Mexico. Heck, we STILL haven’t seen the first Little Tunny! King Mackerel allegedly are prowling around somewhere eight or nine miles offshore. Couldn’t prove it by me! We’ve been “Gamers,” though. Bill Rogers and JW (Bill) Riccardi took a drive out into the Gulf with me last Tuesday and we never saw a single mackerel. Ditto for Rande Yeager on Wednesday. Thursday I didn’t even BOTHER! I had 10-year-old (by two days!) Quinn Cunningham to get into fish (details to follow!). So Bill and JW are flailing away with their fly rods while scores of fishy images are flitting across the screen on my Garmin 172C. Will any of them EAT? Nay! We “walk around” the Gulf for a while, prospecting for those cobia that Bob Pascal hooked last Saturday, but NADA. You know what that stands for don’t you? “Not A Damned Anything!” We briefly considered poking around Shakett Creek for baby tarpon, but finally settled on Little Sarasota Bay. Where, after an agonizingly looooong period of inactivity, the fish decided to join in the fun. At least, WE thought it was fun. The Bill Boys boated fish after fish after fish—at long last. Now we’re gonna take that trip Up The Creek tomorrow morning to see what those 20-to-50-pound poons are all about! Wish us luck. The next morning found Rande and The Capt. Poking around the Gulf amid screens filled with fish that wouldn’t eat a fly to save my life. So, we pulled up stakes and headed northeast into the Intracoastal Waterway. Rande’s an experienced walleye guy from Minneapolis, and pokes around with a fly rod in the Rockies. So it was a real hoot when he landed his first-ever saltwater fish on a fly. When he landed a trout, that brought an even bigger smile. However, his third fish was a foot-long lizardfish. Which have a whole mouthful of sharp little teeth. “Want a picture of it,” I asked. Rande sorta took a half-step backwards. His eyes were fixed on all those teeth. Like a kid answering if he wanted a second helping of spinach and Brussel sprouts he shook his head and tremulously whispered “noooooooo.” I thought I was gonna bust a gut! I laughed so hard and long that my stomach hurt. The expression on his face, and the way he answered, was priceless. If ONLY I’d had a video camera rolling! Wait till I put him on a hundred-pound tarpon in May! I DEFINITELY will film THAT one. When Vern Cunningham called several weeks ago to book his trip, he told me he’d have 10-year-old Quinn and Uncle Don Kirsch with him. The plan was simple: A): Don’t let Quinn get seasick. B): Catch a BUNCH of fish. C): Catch them QUICKLY! Which, I am grateful to say, is exactly what happened. Since this was a spin-fishing trip, I outfitted the guys with the glass minnow jigs I tie, and rigged Quinn with a GULP! shrimp. And I’ll begotohell if on the very first cast when I was demonstrating to Quinn how to work the bait a ladyfish didn’t jump right on! “Here,” I said, handing him the rod. “Land this fish.” Which he did, amid much glee and Pentax Moments. It pretty much went on like that the rest of the day. “FISH ON!” was a frequently heard cry. Quinn had celebrated his 10th birthday two days prior. “If you wanna see 11, do everything I tell you,” I said. Quinn looked at Dad. Then at Uncle Don. Then at me. “That’s reassuring,” he quipped. But he listened well and caught a bunch of fish. Finally, just after Don boated a nice pompano, Quinn started lobbying for “home” and the motel swimming pool. “The pool will be there all day,” Vern said. “Let’s catch some more fish!” “Two more,” Quinn replied. “Each,” Vern countered. “Total,” Quinn said. When Vern landed an 18-inch trout we got the requisite photos, hauled in the sea anchor and headed to the ramp. “You know,” I said, “when school lets out in June those migrating tarpon that cover up the beaches out here really are a sight to behold.” Vern sorta wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. “Something to think about,” he said. So should you! Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 22nd, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
78 °
FISHING: Excellent
MARCH 22, 2009
WOW! Things have been absolutely CRAZY around here this month with one guide trip after another after another. Which is a very good thing. Believe me, the butcher, baker and banker all thank you very much! The highlight, of course, was taking 94-year-old Sam Povinelli fishing again. We were originally booked for the 17th, but Sunday afternoon Sam’s son, Ron, called to tell me Sam was in the hospital. “I had to take him in at three this morning because he couldn’t breathe,” Ron said. “They had to drain fluid off his lungs. “He’s been driving me crazy. All he can talk about is going fishing and how he’s not going to miss the trip. I don’t know if they’re gonna let him out tomorrow. Can you do Thursday?” Well, anything for Sam. I mean, after all… So, I shuffled some folks around and at 8am we were chugging toward the Venice Jetty in search of “food”—which I absolutely MUST somehow produce for Sam or never hear the end of it. Well, it was one of those Spanish mackerel days. Sam and Ron caught fish within moments of the Yammie 115 shutting down. Lots of fish. “Well, the pressure’s off now,” Ron mumbled. “Now you can relax and enjoy the rest of the day.” At which point Sam immediately asked “when are we gonna catch some trout? I like to eat trout.” I looked at Ron and he rolled his eyes. “I spoke too soon,” he mumbled again. The third time Sam mentioned catching a trout, Ron and I nodded to each other and headed back inside. “I’ve been hearing that pompano have been hanging around the point of rocks at the end of the jetty,” I said. “Wanna stop for a few minutes?” Ron nodded and I was getting us positioned for our second drift when Sam’s reel started singing. Alas, it was a very sad song. I didn’t realize Sam hadn’t reeled in. Yep. You guessed it. Line wrapped around the prop. I used the trolling motor to get us into the shallows around Petersen’s Island, then Ron and I went to work getting the line free. We never did catch any pompano. But brother, did Sam and Ron catch ladyfish and trout galore! That’s the good news. Yeah, the bad news is that not one of them was at least 15 inches long. Not the ones that were boated that is. Ron had two on—in fact one was slamming the side of my Hewes like a jackhammer—that would have more than qualified for Sam’s hot skillet. Unfortunately, both came unpinned. Which surprised me, since Ron’s an excellent angler. He took it in good stride and simply shugged in resignation. Sam, on the other hand… Finally, Ron suggested heading for home. “Seven hours of fishing is probably more than Dad needed,” Ron admitted, “but he’s been yapping about this trip for two months! “Reel in, Dad. It’s time to go. We’ve gotta clean these fish for tonight’s dinner.” “No,” Sam said. “We gonna go to McDonald’s on the way home. We’ll have the fish tomorrow.” “Why not tonight?” Ron asked. “Tomorrow’s Friday!” Ron shook his head. “I should have known.” The next day, John Bachey and his brother-in-law, Phil Weiser, met me for a run outside. Once again, the Spanish mackerel were prevalent and co-operative—just like the previous Friday when John Freeland disproved the “13th Jinx.” And when I tell you they caught fish, I mean THEY CAUGHT FISH! “It’s a fish on every cast,” John Bachey marveled at one point. “I’ve never had an experience like this in my life.” His best fish of the day was a Spanish in the 5-pound class, but he and Phil whooped like schoolboys because of the nonstop action. John Freeland, meanwhile, fished with me on the 13th and absolutely hammered the Spanish. Less than a week later, he split a trip with Bill Rogers, of Duluth, and the spotted buggers were in very short supply. We did locate a nice pod of baby tarpon in the 30-to-50-pound class, which was exciting. It would have been MORE exciting if one of them had eaten a fly, but at least there was a state of constant anticipation. “Anticipation” also sums up yesterday’s outing with Bob Pascal and his lady friend Terry Janeczko. The graph on my Garmin 172C was absolutely PAINTED with fish images. Would they eat? No! Well, one small Spanish did eat the glass minnow jig Terry was using, but the pods just weren’t turned on. Time and time again we’d start to run and Terry would tap my arm and point at the graph covered with little green fish in varying sizes. Bob, a former All-America halfback at Duke, certainly was “turned on” by something very large and powerful that inhaled his jig and methodically swam away from the boat. No fuss, no muss. No leaping acrobatics. Just a steady ziiiiiing of the reel. When it looked as if we were dangerously close to being spooled, I tightened the drag. Ziiiiiing. I tightened a bit more. Ziiiiiiiing. I tightened a bit more. Then, to paraphrase the title of Cornelius Ryan’s book, I went “A Turn Too Far.” PING! Which I regretfully must admit falls into the category of “Guide Failure.” Shoulda just fired up the big motor and given chase to what was either a shark or a cobia. Next time, Bob. Next time. ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE I am constantly amazed at the difference in Ghost when her half-tablet of Previcox kick in. We can see her eyes perk up and her whole attitude change. Anyone who has an older dog (she’ll be 12 in May) with arthritis or hip problems (she blew out her left anterior cruciate ligament in ’05), needs to ask the vet about this stuff. Ghost was on Rimadyl, but this new stuff is far superior. It lets her roughhouse with Heart—the 21-month-old—and keeps her in excellent condition. Heart is coming along. As all “intact” male pups will do, he’s a constant blur of motion. Grouse season should be very interesting come October! In the meantime, Little Tunny (false albacore) should show up soon, along with King mackerel. That means tarpon won’t be far behind as the water temperature warms. And THAT means it’s time to check your schedule for May, June and July. I still have some good dates left, but my calendar is filling up pretty quickly. A Beach Retreat and the Venice Holiday House both have special rates for my anglers. Go to the Links dropdown for all the info on both hotels. Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 22nd, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
78 °
FISHING: Excellent
WOW! Things have been absolutely CRAZY around here this month with one guide trip after another after another. Which is a very good thing. Believe me, the butcher, baker and banker all thank you very much! The highlight, of course, was taking 94-year-old Sam Povinelli fishing again. We were originally booked for the 17th, but Sunday afternoon Sam’s son, Ron, called to tell me Sam was in the hospital. “I had to take him in at three this morning because he couldn’t breathe,” Ron said. “They had to drain fluid off his lungs. “He’s been driving me crazy. All he can talk about is going fishing and how he’s not going to miss the trip. I don’t know if they’re gonna let him out tomorrow. Can you do Thursday?” Well, anything for Sam. I mean, after all… So, I shuffled some folks around and at 8am we were chugging toward the Venice Jetty in search of “food”—which I absolutely MUST somehow produce for Sam or never hear the end of it. Well, it was one of those Spanish mackerel days. Sam and Ron caught fish within moments of the Yammie 115 shutting down. Lots of fish. “Well, the pressure’s off now,” Ron mumbled. “Now you can relax and enjoy the rest of the day.” At which point Sam immediately asked “when are we gonna catch some trout? I like to eat trout.” I looked at Ron and he rolled his eyes. “I spoke too soon,” he mumbled again. The third time Sam mentioned catching a trout, Ron and I nodded to each other and headed back inside. “I’ve been hearing that pompano have been hanging around the point of rocks at the end of the jetty,” I said. “Wanna stop for a few minutes?” Ron nodded and I was getting us positioned for our second drift when Sam’s reel started singing. Alas, it was a very sad song. I didn’t realize Sam hadn’t reeled in. Yep. You guessed it. Line wrapped around the prop. I used the trolling motor to get us into the shallows around Petersen’s Island, then Ron and I went to work getting the line free. We never did catch any pompano. But brother, did Sam and Ron catch ladyfish and trout galore! That’s the good news. Yeah, the bad news is that not one of them was at least 15 inches long. Not the ones that were boated that is. Ron had two on—in fact one was slamming the side of my Hewes like a jackhammer—that would have more than qualified for Sam’s hot skillet. Unfortunately, both came unpinned. Which surprised me, since Ron’s an excellent angler. He took it in good stride and simply shugged in resignation. Sam, on the other hand… Finally, Ron suggested heading for home. “Seven hours of fishing is probably more than Dad needed,” Ron admitted, “but he’s been yapping about this trip for two months! “Reel in, Dad. It’s time to go. We’ve gotta clean these fish for tonight’s dinner.” “No,” Sam said. “We gonna go to McDonald’s on the way home. We’ll have the fish tomorrow.” “Why not tonight?” Ron asked. “Tomorrow’s Friday!” Ron shook his head. “I should have known.” The next day, John Bachey and his brother-in-law, Phil Weiser, met me for a run outside. Once again, the Spanish mackerel were prevalent and co-operative—just like the previous Friday when John Freeland disproved the “13th Jinx.” And when I tell you they caught fish, I mean THEY CAUGHT FISH! “It’s a fish on every cast,” John Bachey marveled at one point. “I’ve never had an experience like this in my life.” His best fish of the day was a Spanish in the 5-pound class, but he and Phil whooped like schoolboys because of the nonstop action. John Freeland, meanwhile, fished with me on the 13th and absolutely hammered the Spanish. Less than a week later, he split a trip with Bill Rogers, of Duluth, and the spotted buggers were in very short supply. We did locate a nice pod of baby tarpon in the 30-to-50-pound class, which was exciting. It would have been MORE exciting if one of them had eaten a fly, but at least there was a state of constant anticipation. “Anticipation” also sums up yesterday’s outing with Bob Pascal and his lady friend Terry Janeczko. The graph on my Garmin 172C was absolutely PAINTED with fish images. Would they eat? No! Well, one small Spanish did eat the glass minnow jig Terry was using, but the pods just weren’t turned on. Time and time again we’d start to run and Terry would tap my arm and point at the graph covered with little green fish in varying sizes. Bob, a former All-America halfback at Duke, certainly was “turned on” by something very large and powerful that inhaled his jig and methodically swam away from the boat. No fuss, no muss. No leaping acrobatics. Just a steady ziiiiiing of the reel. When it looked as if we were dangerously close to being spooled, I tightened the drag. Ziiiiiing. I tightened a bit more. Ziiiiiiiing. I tightened a bit more. Then, to paraphrase the title of Cornelius Ryan’s book, I went “A Turn Too Far.” PING! Which I regretfully must admit falls into the category of “Guide Failure.” Shoulda just fired up the big motor and given chase to what was either a shark or a cobia. Next time, Bob. Next time. ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE I am constantly amazed at the difference in Ghost when her half-tablet of Previcox kick in. We can see her eyes perk up and her whole attitude change. Anyone who has an older dog (she’ll be 12 in May) with arthritis or hip problems (she blew out her left anterior cruciate ligament in ’05), needs to ask the vet about this stuff. Ghost was on Rimadyl, but this new stuff is far superior. It lets her roughhouse with Heart—the 21-month-old—and keeps her in excellent condition. Heart is coming along. As all “intact” male pups will do, he’s a constant blur of motion. Grouse season should be very interesting come October! In the meantime, Little Tunny (false albacore) should show up soon, along with King mackerel. That means tarpon won’t be far behind as the water temperature warms. And THAT means it’s time to check your schedule for May, June and July. I still have some good dates left, but my calendar is filling up pretty quickly. A Beach Retreat and the Venice Holiday House both have special rates for my anglers. Go to the Links dropdown for all the info on both hotels. Tight Loops,Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - February 22nd, 2009
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
75 °
FISHING: Excellent
FEBRUARY 22, 2009
“Ole Blue Eyes” sang something about “the winter winds, are blowin’ in…” well, he might as well have been crooning about southwest Florida these past several weeks.
But, here’s hoping the past couple of days finally have blown out all that cold, blustery air!
Chris Counts and his wife Kate came down from Michigan with their friend Andy Woodrich and we had to do a bit of shufflin’ around to get them into fish.
Thursday afternoon, which was supposed to be “prep time” for night snooking, we no more than got lines in the water when it started raining. And raining. And raining harder.
“We’re going home,” I said. And, we did.
Friday morning found us back in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Nokomis, but the wind was howling and I decided to put the boat on the trailer and seek refuge in Lemon Bay’s creeks.
Good plan, except the fish didn’t want to play. Except for one small lizardfish. Sigh. Another tough day. Okay, we’ll get out Saturday afternoon and catch some fish, then do the night-snook thingy. Everybody was good with that.
So, Saturday morning I drove to the Warner’s Bayou boat ramp in Bradenton to meet Rich Hunter and his old friend Tony Booth. Rich was still VERY pumped about catching that 4-pound jack crevalle and 3-pound ladyfish last week. “That crevalle is now my screen-saver,” he told me. “It bumped my grandkid!”
Oops! Gotta be careful about that kind of thing, Rich.
We drove into Miguel Bay and Tony promptly got into a ladyfish. Then another one, and another one and Rich still hadn’t caught a fish. We poked around some docks while the wind corkscrewed my Hewes Redfisher, and I finally decided to hide behind Bird Key.
The guys ate lunch and I slow-walked the boat westward. Once we got into the lee, I climbed onto the poling platform and started looking for redfish. Found some, too.
That was the good part. The not-so-good part was that Mr. Booth couldn’t quite pinpoint them and all of our best efforts “went for naught,” as he would have said in his native England.
Rich is still pumped up about his “new love”—fishing, however, and wants to go out again Sunday “when my son and daughter will be down visiting.” Attaboy, Rich. Great attitude!
Kate, Chris, and Andy also had great attitude when I met them at 4 o’clock. We got out into the ICW and Kate was charged with the responsibility of catching the first fish. Which she did in hardly any time at all.
The guys got into the act after that, and boated quite a few fish before it was time to get set up on my favorite light for snook.
Interestingly enough, the guys caught several ladyfish, and Andy boated a hefty sea trout, before Chris finally brought a respectable snook into the boat.
The pearl estaz shrimp with white hackle reverse-palmered down the body seemed to work best, although Andy lost the best fish of the night on one of my glass minnows with yellow/black lead eyes. That was one very large snook!
They’re on their way back to snowy Michigan today—from which we just had a call from our plow operator telling us his tractor’s broken and getting our road plowed might be, uh, problematic.
Marvelous. Simply marvelous!
Oh, well, I’m taking Jim and Denise Depaepe back out for night snook this evening. So the hell with snow!
When we fished together last week Denise—as always—caught bigger fish than Jim. So I can’t send them back to Washington state without at least giving Jim a CHANCE to redeem himself.
Film at 11.
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Ghost and Heart continue to refine their “games.” Heart absolutely LOVES leaping high in the air over Ghost’s back. Ghost, who’s sometimes gotten sorta broadsided by that trick, has developed a couple of very nice jukes to get away from the pup.
Meanwhile, she continues to make sure he doesn’t totally wreck the house. He likes to shred pieces of paper that he daintily plucks out of wastebaskets, so Ghost head-butts him like she did when he ate Kate’s marigolds the second day we had him.
They have a great time running around the back yard. I don’t even want to THINK about what it would be like having them house-bound because of the snow in Deward right now!
Well, I’ve gotta dig some holes so Kate can plant some shrubs, then I need to tie some of those Killer Shrimp for Den—I mean Jim!
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - June 28th, 2008
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
90 °
FISHING: Excellent
JUNE 28, 2008
FLORIDA
I’ve been hitting the lights in Venice and Nokomis for snook before heading out to Tarpon Country and the fishing has been superb in those pre-dawn hours!
The snook are stacked up like cordwood, and there’s an incredible amount of bait in the water. Some of my regular clients—such as Dr. Mark Johnson and Mark Goodnight—have had a blast with these aggressively-feeding snook.
The tarpon bite remains quite good off the barrier islands from Captiva all the way north to Egmont Key in lower Tampa Bay. We’re finding them a few miles north of the Venice Jetty along Casey Key.
Some days have been better than others, of course, but there still are plenty of fish milling around. Pinfish and crabs are the food du jour—either artificials or live bait—IF you can find live crabs.
They’re in short supply this year, and bait shops are charging as much as $5 EACH!!!!
I’ve got Mote Marine tarpon specialist Dr. Aaron Adams Monday, then Frank Mariano again Tuesday. He still can’t stop talking about that 19-inch pompano he landed in Sarasota Bay last month.
Let’s hope he can start bragging about the 100-pound tarpon he expects to catch. And, of course it’s always a pleasure to learn more about tarpon from Dr. Adams.
My last trip is scheduled for July 7, then I’ll be heading home and will start guiding Michigan trout anglers on the 11th. Speaking of which…
MICHIGAN
Despite the predictions for more rain, the Manistee, Au Sable, and Pere Marquette rivers are getting back to normal after the torrential thunderstorms during the past two weeks.
Some of the water is still a bit tea-colored, and you DEFINITELY want to stay away from the South Branch for a while longer. But, the BIG NEWS is that Hex have started popping on some stretches of the Mainstream, and are just beginning on the Manistee between M72 and CCC Bridge.
There also are Gray drakes and Isonychias fluttering around, along with the usual cast of caddis, blue wing olives and sulphurs.
With luck, the Hex will still be in the air when I get home. If not, the big browns will start keying in on Hoppers during the daytime—which is actually my favorite time of the year to fish in Michigan. Lots of activity with large fish and gentlemen’s hours!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
The BAD news is that Ghost’s left eye—which has had two serious injuries over the years because she’s absolutely fearless in the field—is acting up again.
Kate has been saddled with putting drops and lotion in Ghost’s eye SIX TIMES A DAY!!!!! Something Ghost DEFINITELY is not thrilled about.
“That dog KNOWS when it’s time for medication,” Kate said, “and she finds every possible hidey-hole to try and escape. It’s been a challenge, to say the least!”
So, I’m making an appointment Monday to take her to Dan Lorimer, who owns Michigan Veterinary Specialists in Southfield. Dan treated Ghost when she poked a hole in that eye a couple of years ago. That’s also where she had her left knee rebuilt.
The GOOD news is that the puppy—year-old Heart—is absolutely crazy about birds. “He’s just plain crazy,” Kate says. “Every now and then his brain just goes sproing! But, he’s starting to settle down a little bit. Gotta remember he’s like an 18-year-old boy.
“Remember what YOU were like at 18, kiddo?”
Uh, let’s not go THERE!
MONTANA
Capt. John’s busy floating the Madison, The Park, and frequently the Missouri. So, if you’ve got plans to head out to West Yellowstone this summer or fall get ahold of Jacklin’s Fly Shop and for Gospo.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - June 21st, 2008
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
90 °
FISHING: Great
JUNE 21, 2008
FLORIDA
Tarpon still hold center-stage, as you can well-imagine at this time of year--although fishing the surf along the beaches for LARGE brood snook isn’t far behind in popularity!
It’s been an unsettled season for tarpon, I must admit. We’ve had early morning thunderstorms—like the one that postponed my Thursday trip with Dennis Sandwith and Jim Dalton into Friday.
When we met at the Higel Park ramp the sky was filled with lightning bolts. “Guys,” I asked, “what are you doing tomorrow at this time?”
“Fishing with you!” they replied in unison. Right. And, we did run out of the Venice Jetty after Jim tagged two nice snook, boating one.
Almost immediately after anchoring off Casey Key some tarpon popped up. Shots were taken, but no “hits” were recorded. However, the chop started to build and the boat started rockin’ so I pulled the plug.
We convoyed down to North Port and cruised around the Myakka River. Long on expectations, but short on results. The guys had a lot more shots, but those *%#@*#!!!!! fish wouldn’t even suck down a live crab!
Go figure! Ah, well. We’ll keep plugging away at ‘em.
There are Spanish mackerel off the beach, too. And redfish in Lemon Bay are big and hungry. In fact, I’ll be poling those flats Monday morning with Jim McGinnis and his brother.
There are some pompano around, too, and some really fat sea trout are cruising the grass flats.
MICHIGAN
Water levels are still high, so most folks are stripping streamers hoping to entice some large brown trout into making a mistake in the tea-colored water.
Reports are favorable if water levels and flow start to drop, but forecasts are calling for more rain this week. There have been brown drakes, mahoganies, sulphers and the usual caddis on the water.
Hex have “reportedly” been sighted in a few spots, but don’t take THAT ONE to the bank.
It could be a week before any REAL Hex show up. In fact, I’m likely to “Hit The Hatch” when I get back to Michigan just after the 4th.
Speaking of which, check your schedule and get with me for Hopper or Hex fishing. Don’t forget, July and August hopper fishing produces some of the finest daytime angling of the year on the Au Sable and Manistee rivers!
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE:
“BONEHEADED PUPPY!” was the header on Kate’s message to me this morning. Here’s what she had to say:
“Okay--so the dogs come in from their bedtime walk, and Heart, bounding up the steps, leaps into his accustomed crate. Seeing that Ghost wanted to get in there, I told Heart to go to the other crate, which he did. Then, for some reason, before I could close the door to Ghost's, the puppy leaped back across the bed and got into the same crate with Ghost.
“I think I stood there frozen for a split second before the dustup started. Felt like an eternity.
“Lemme tell ya, that crate was rockin' and rollin'. Lots of snarling and whimpering. Now that I think about it, it reminded me of Sarge and Beetle Bailey going round and round--I can just see all the stars and exclamation points and clouds of dust!
“Once I got them quieted--and I don't remember how I did, except to keep saying That's enough, that's enough, it's okay--we reached a standoff. Heart was huddled in a back corner of the crate, Ghost in front. I tried to get her to come out, but she didn't want to turn her eyes away from him. I know that she wanted him to leave first, but of course that just wasn't physically possible. I think if he could have evaporated himself through the wire, he would have.
“All I could think to do was to go get a Mr. Patterson (ed. note: Meaty Bone biscuit) to lure them out. I brought it up, sat on the bed, and kept saying Okay, it's alright now, everything's okay. I certainly was not about to stick my hand in there to grab Ghost. Even in pandemonium, I'm not that dumb.
“There was no further snarling or whimpering while I went downstairs; I think Heart was afraid to even breathe at that point.
“Finally, after a fair amount of soothing talk, Ghost tentatively wagged her tail and then finally came out, followed by Heart, who shot over to the other crate.
“Calm now has been restored. Doesn't appear to be any blood or any injuries; just a lot of sound and fury.
“Ever since Ghost reclaimed that crate several days ago I have tried to remember to close the door on that one while they're out for their bedtime walk, to avoid scenes like this. However, being a busy mom, I can't always remember every detail.
“So now the question is, will Heart have learned that's no longer his bedtime crate, or will he still try to get in there?
“Stay tuned for the next exciting episode!”
Later, Kate reported “Pals Again: They’re playing together out in the pen.”
WHEW!
Boneheaded Puppy is RIGHT! Jumping into the crate with Ghost was NOT a smart move—which Heart now FULLY realizes!
MONTANA
Haven’t heard from Capt. John, but he’s rowing the rivers out west so give Jacklin’s Fly Shop a call if you plan to head out that way this summer.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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Venice - Snook Alley - March 18th, 2008
supplied by: Tight Loops Flyfishing
RECORDED:
80 °
FISHING: Excellent
MARCH 18, 2008
FLORIDA
Brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, even babes-in-arms trooped down to the boat ramp at Higel Park on the Island of Venice Saturday morning.
All to watch “Dad” (Dave Harnett) get the surprise of his 60-year-old life!
“Hey, Doc,” I yelled, while casually leaning back on the console seat of my Hewes Redfisher 18, with my feet propped up on the casting deck. “You wanna go fishing?”
Naturally, he looked around at everyone. Puzzled by the question. “But in my head, just before you said that, I was thinking to myself—there’s a charter captain waiting for his client,” Dave told me later.
“Sure you do!” I continued. “Because I’m your birthday present. Well, not ME, really. The boat. C’mon. Let’s go fishin’.” At which point everyone broke out in a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
Dave dutifully hopped on board along with his youngest child, Matt (who had booked the trip), and eldest child, Trevor (there are two sisters separating them) and off we went.
Nearly five hours later, they were back at the dock with tired arms and happy smiles. It was mercifully one of those no-brainer days in the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) around Venice.
Without the need to exaggerate one iota I can tell you that the three of them boated 70 fish (“I’d says more like 75,” Matt proclaimed), mostly using the jigs I’d tied using my “Champagne Gobi” fly pattern. You can look it up on the Photo Gallery and New Fly Pattern dropdowns.
But it was such a crazy day that Matt kept hooking fish (they were mostly all ladyfish) even when the jig he was using had been shredded to the point where it was a bare hook.
“They even chewed the red paint off the head,” Matt crowed. “Man, this is unbelievable! I’ve NEVER had a day of fishing like this!”
Ah, the words a guide loves to hear. Especially since Matt continued, “since Dad has the condo here (since 1979), you’ll be seeing a lot of us over the next 30 or 40 years!”
Uh-huh. MORE music to a guide’s ears!
Earlier in the week, Charlie Wells and his son, Bruce, had fun playing with spotted sea trout in Lemon Bay before Bruce had to fly off to London, where he works three weeks out of each month.
“It gets hectic sometimes,” he said, “but London’s a great place and the people are really nice. Except some of the older folks still grumble that us Canadians and you Yanks should still be part of the Empire.
“I don’t hear that from the younger people, but it amazes me to hear the 80-somethings say that.”
He also mentioned that a half-day of fishing in England costs $600USD! CRIKEY, mate! “And finding a place to fish is pretty hard even at that.”
Strong wind forced me to keep Bob Strayton and his son Rob inside Fork Creek for most of our trip the following day, but the snook and snapper co-operated nicely so everybody had a good time.
Bob had planned a trip with me last month with his son-in-law Bruce, but once I got out into Gasparilla Sound the boat was rocking like a yo-yo we went home.
Steve Sherman joined me on his fourth annual outing on Thursday. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted a shot at redfish, trout, and pompano during the day, or snook under the lights. So, we did both!
Steve, who was absolutely THRILLED to get away from the massive snowfall Syracuse has been hit with this winter, met me at 3pm and we headed to Lemon Bay.
After boating a variety of species we drove to Casey Key and dropped the boat into “Snook Alley,” where he caught a very feisty jack crevalle before getting into the snook.
Mike Thomas, who was another victim of mechanical failure (the helm on my steering failed), and then high winds the previous Sunday, brought his pal Ken Ayres along this time and they also hooked a wide variety of fish in Lemon Bay.
Sunday was a lot of fun. My Florida vet, Dean Ebert, brought his 12-year-old daughter, Natasha, in search of redfish. Dean (“I want FOOD”) grew up in Poland, Ohio, not far from my home town of Niles.
Must be that Youngstown Thing. Dean doesn’t see the logic in spending time and gasoline fishing or diving if you’re going to come home empty-handed.
“Now we’ve gotta stop at Publix before going home,” he said as we parted at the Indian Mounds ramp.
“Well, here’s what you do,” I replied. “Take Natasha into the store with you. Get the fish out of the case and toss it to her. That way, when you get home you can truthfully say yep—she caught it.”
Natasha giggled. Dean just smiled.
ENGLISH SETTER UPDATE
Heart celebrated his nine-month “birthday” last week. MAN did he celebrate. Of course, that’s really nothing unique.
He bounces off the walls. He jumps over my comfy chair-and-ottoman. He even has been seen using the living room coffee table as a launching pad onto the futon.
Ghost, who I had feared would have long-since shredded this interloper, mostly takes it all in stride. Occasionally, she gets exasperated and head-butts him the way she did when he was a mere pup.
But the FUNNIEST thing is when Heart grabs a sofa pillow or something and Kate tells her, “Ghost! Get him!” At which point she runs over and glares at Heart until he abashedly drops whatever contraband he’s been illegally chewing.
Then she either menaces him for a few seconds, or chases him around the house until he drops onto the carpet and rolls over onto his back.
What makes it particularly hilarious is the fact that he’s now taller and heavier than she is. He even jumps clear over her back when they’re tussling in the back yard. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long this routine continues.
But those of you who know Ghost are aware that she’ll never back down. Ever.
Well, I’ve got to tie some flies and jigs for tonight’s snook trip.
Tight Loops,
Capt. Tony
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